Breaking Point
by JadeOceans
Summary: Schuldich pushes his luck and Crawford's patience finally snaps


Title: Breaking Point  
Author: Beth Gulla  
Fandom: Weiss Kreuz  
Pairing: Brad/Schuldich  
Rating: R   
Spoilers: none  
Summary: Schuldich pushes his luck and Crawford's patience finally snaps. 

  


Notes: //'s indicate telepathic speech.  
  
~~~~  
  
It had been building for some time.   
  
He would see it in flashes, never the whole scene, so he didn't fully understand until the day everything fell into place. It was the slamming of the door that triggered the recollection of foggy images that had drifted through his mind for weeks. Seated in his study, Crawford opened his eyes to a darkened room and waited for his vision to play out.   
  
Steps in the hall approached lazily, but before their owner had even reached the room, Crawford's skin was already crawling with the smugness that proceeded his visitor. A shock of orange hair, barely held in check by a bandana, appeared in the doorway and Schuldich leaned in, arms braced on the door frame.   
  
"Waiting up for me, Bradley?" he drawled. A sneer of disgust fought to crack Crawford's impassive expression but it was quickly subdued. The German left the doorway and sauntered forward, a lethargy in his limbs that Crawford thought resembled a tick bloated on blood, arrogantly moving on to the next victim. There was enough light coming in through the doorway for him to see the curve of Schuldich's lips when he flashed his trademark smirk and paused in front of the desk.   
  
"I told you to break it off," Crawford said after a brief silence. He hadn't moved since Schuldich entered the room--back straight in his chair, hands clasped loosely in his lap--and his failure to rise to Schuldich's bait only made the other man's smirk broaden. Or maybe he was simply remembering Crawford's very precise instructions that he had ignored--Crawford didn't need his clairvoyance to give him _that _answer--when he left that evening.   
  
"They're _my _toys, what do you care what I do with them?" Schuldich replied, testing him, pushing to see how far he could get before Crawford snapped.   
  
"I care when it puts members of my team in danger." A scornful snort followed these words, just as Crawford had seen in his vision. It was a wonder he never felt any deja vu when the future actually revealed itself.   
  
"Kudou's got himself so bound by guilt, he'd never think of using our 'meetings' to further Weiss. Besides..." Schuldich's gaze turned inward briefly and Crawford guessed at what he was imagining. "I'd break his mind if he even considered it." Any other person would have shivered at the flicker of twisted mirth that passed over Schuldich's expression with his words, but Crawford was used to the abnormalities in his teammates. More importantly, though, was the icy anger bubbling just below the surface of Crawford's careful mask.   
  
Time after time, Schuldich completely disregarded Crawford's orders and did whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. It was any wonder the man hadn't gotten himself killed with all the trouble he had been causing since their arrival in Tokyo. Crawford was not a man who liked being questioned and he liked being ignored even less.   
  
"This isn't a game, Schuldich," he went on, eyes narrowing. "Don't go near Kudou again."  
  
"Jealous, Bradley?" Schuldich sneered, leaning across the desk. "Wish that I was fucking you instead of Weiss's whore? Maybe you want me to spread my legs like he does..."   
  
Crawford was expecting the sharp jab at his mental shields and easily deflected it, knowing that behind that damned smirk, Schuldich was growling with frustration at once again being held back. Ever since Crawford had picked him up off the street and brought him to Este, Schuldich had tried to get behind the clairvoyant's impenetrable walls. He had attempted almost everything but no matter how angry Crawford got, no matter how close he may come to losing control, the barriers never came down and there remained at least one person in the world Schuldich _couldn't _toy with.   
  
The part of Crawford reflecting distantly on all of this was also aware of how they were rapidly approaching the one snippet of his vision he had never seen clearly. Even after all the pieces had fallen together and everything was now playing out, he still was uncertain about what would happen in the next few seconds because it had been too blurred in his mind for him to understand. It was unusual when his visions did that and it made Crawford uneasy.   
  
"Schuldich, I'm not going to tell you again. If you have a problem with your orders, I'll contact Este and tell them I need a replacement for my team," he said coldly and saw the brief falter in Schuldich's perfect mask. But before he could say anymore, the image of the man before him blurred, a sign that the telepath was moving with his superhuman speed. In an instant, Schuldich was looming over his chair, invading Crawford's space with a dark glint in his eyes and a dangerously careless smile curving his lips.   
  
"Why don't you relax, Brad, for once in your life. Take that fucking stick out of your ass and learn to lighten up a little." Even as he was speaking, Schuldich was leaning closer, his hands pushing Crawford's away to move on to his belt and zipper ruthlessly. Even though Brad had seen this all come together in his vision, he was still shocked for a moment at Schuldich's audacity. The surprise was swallowed by the rush of outrage that followed when the telepath unceremoniously shoved his hand into Crawford's underwear.   
  
Uncontrolled white rage lit up behind Brad's eyes like a supernova as he surged out of his chair, shoving Schuldich away. His teammate fell back against the desk but his smirk never wavered, even when Crawford pushed him down with a hand around his throat.   
  
"Cut it out," he hissed, infuriated by the arrogance that just wouldn't die. "Stop fucking around, Schuldich."   
  
/But we haven't even started,/ came the purred response at the edges of his mind. Crawford tightened the hold he had on Schuldich's neck, increasing the pressure holding him down.   
  
"You think I won't do it? I'll send you back there and they will _break _you. They'll wipe that fucking smirk off your face once and for all."  
  
/Why don't you just do it yourself?/   
  
Always a snide retort. He could never get one word in without having an irritating comment or remark thrown back at him. A snarl twisted Crawford's lips as he added his other hand to the slowly tightening grip on Schuldich's throat. He felt the muscles straining under his fingers, the skin stretching, Schuldich's Adam's apple bobbing once as he attempted to gasp in air. He eyes still glimmered with defiance, though, and Brad suddenly realized how this would end. The vision that fell together so neatly only minutes earlier had cut off abruptly with this final picture clear in Crawford's mind, but now he knew with absolute certainty, what would have followed.   
  
He was going to kill Schuldich and the bastard would still have the upper hand because that mocking smile would never fade.   
  
And then Schuldich twisted like a snake, swinging his legs up to hook around Crawford's waist and shove them together as he reached up for a fistful of Brad's hair. Even with a vise-like grip around his throat, Schuldich still managed to jerk Crawford's head down to crash their lips together. The world suddenly froze for Crawford, tilted violently with the forceful intrusion of Schuldich's tongue in his mouth, then plummeted downward into an insane maelstrom of lust and rage and violence.   
  
Hands tore at clothing, bruising and scratching in their haste to be rid of unwanted barriers. Schuldich pulled harder on Crawford's hair to war with teeth and tongue for control over their kiss, but only earned himself a bitten lip. With a chuckle, he licked up the blood and rocked his hips, silently demanding, wanton in his lust. He didn't make a sound when Brad shoved himself inside, but his nails raked down Crawford's back, drawing blood in return. The sex was frenzied and brutal, tearing through both of them and leaving behind a bitter rawness. As he came, when his mental shields were their weakest, Crawford felt another more vicious stab and reacted on instinct, his hand whipping out to connect with Schuldich's chin. The blow knocked Schuldich's head back against the desk with a nasty crack, but the telepath just winked and snapped at Crawford's fingers with his teeth. He managed to catch one and bit down as he brought himself to completion.   
  
The world spun back into regular orbit with a sickening lurch as Crawford jerked his hand away and pulled out. Schuldich winced briefly but pushed himself up on his elbows to watch Brad stare in mingled disgust and frustration at what he had just done. When he had finally pulled together enough to tuck himself back into his pants, straighten his clothes--as best he could with the stain now spattered on his shirt--and turn back to Schuldich, the cold mask had slid back into place, barely concealing the fury that still lingered.   
  
"Get out."   
  
For a moment, Crawford thought Schuldich was going to push more, risk it all again while the red marks on his throat still clearly described how close he had come to losing the game. But after a short silence, he slid off the desk and pulled his pants up, his gaze never leaving Crawford's as he did up his fly. He chuckled low, but said nothing as he brushed past Brad and headed for the exit, pausing in the doorway.   
  
"Anything you'd like me to pass on to Weiss's whore when I see him again?" he asked, smirking nastily. Crawford was silent in the face of Schuldich's defiance, but then a thought occurred to him. A rare icy half-smile stole across his expression.   
  
"Tell him there'll always be one person you'll never be able to toy with," Brad replied and was pleased when Schuldich's smug expression closed down. Crawford calmly resumed his seat and pointedly turned his attention away from the man still lingering in his doorway. It wasn't until after the footsteps had retreated down the hall--sounding so different than they had before--that he allowed himself a full-fledged vicious smirk of his own. 

  
  



End file.
